


Slight Detours

by Kiriska



Category: Runewriters
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiriska/pseuds/Kiriska
Summary: Severian didn't really know where he was going.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Shazz! I hope even like two years later after I said I might, I still get the honour of having written the very first [Runewriters](http://runewriters.com) fanfic. >:)

Severian didn't really know where he was going.

Of course, as a second-year, he knew roughly where most things in the castle were. He knew that Gryffindor Tower was in a tower, of course, and therefore not on the ground floor. He knew that Slytherins were in the basement (“dungeons,” they said, but he was pretty sure they had never been used as dungeons and that was just Slytherins being _edgy_ or whatever), which was also not the ground floor. The Greenhouse was outside, and the Charms classroom was not. He wasn't _stupid_.

He was aware, though, that he probably should have also long since learned the castle's weekly and hourly preferences for staircase rotation, but the truth was that he didn't really mind not knowing where he was going most of the time. He got to where he needed to be eventually. Usually.

For classes, at least, he was fortunate enough to have friends that had made it their business and duty to ensure he got to each one on time, but for most errands, Severian was well-accustomed to wandering the castle for long minutes, sometimes an hour or more, before eventually stumbling over what he had forgotten he'd been looking for in the first place.

At the top of the staircase he'd been climbing was one of the library's smaller entrances. The library's main entrance was on the ground floor and was definitely not on the same floor as the hospital wing, but he wasn't sure about the various other entrances. Was he on the third floor? Severian looked over the railing to the floor he'd just left. The staircase had already moved, and he was sure that there was a different floor under him now, somehow.

He cupped his chin with his hand to think, except that he currently had no hands. A warm, squishy tentacle curled around his chin instead and Severian laughed at himself. He was already sort of getting used to the tentacle hands, and he thought that it wouldn't be _too_ bad if he delayed finding the hospital wing for a while longer. Having tentacle hands was cool. He was cool.

“ _Excuse me,”_ came a high-pitched, distinctly unpleasant voice.

Severian turned around.

A cartoon villain of a Slytherin sixth-year stood near the library entrance. He was tall and thin, with reddish hair and prominent cheekbones that seemed to accentuate the menacing glare he was giving the Ravenclaw third-year in front of him.

“Yes?”

Overburdened with books, the Ravenclaw boy turned around slowly and carefully to maintain his grip and balance. He had short, wavy brown hair and looked like he hadn't slept in his entire life. His voice was soft and perhaps a little tired, but he didn't sound afraid, surprisingly.

“That book,” the Slytherin said, gesturing a bit dramatically. “I had it reserved.”

“I did as well,” was the matter-of-fact reply. “I suppose we were both informed of its availability, but I got to the library first?”

“By mere moments only.”

The Ravenclaw smiled. “Fair's fair.”

Severian leaned lightly against the railing of the floor and watched the pair of them plainly, though it didn't seem like either of them noticed him there. It wasn't a very interesting argument, but unpleasantness and clear villainy of the Slytherin sixth-year made Severian want to linger. (It wasn't just because he was a Gryffindor! Or maybe it was, but it was definitely still the right thing to do, right?)

“My name was on the reserve list first,” the Slytherin continued. “Priority should have been to _me_.”

“It wasn't though,” the Ravenclaw boy said, and Severian had to grin at his apparent indifference to the older boy's obvious anger.

The taller Slytherin pulled out his wand -- long and thin, like his fingers -- from his robes and held it loosely at his side. Severian felt his muscles tense.

“Just give me the book. It seems like you have plenty of others to keep you occupied while I use it.”

The Ravenclaw seemed to consider this, but he said, “I don't really want to do that though.”

The Slytherin raised his wand, but in the next moment, Severian was tackling him around the waist. They both slammed into the wall adjacent to the library entrance, then fell onto the ground with a small thud.

“Get off of me, you savage oaf!” The Slytherin's voice was of shrill indignation. He pushed a bony hand against Severian's face, trying to shove him away, but Severian's arms were still wrapped around his waist, and he was having a hard time untangling them.

“Ow, ow, hey, that's--that's not helping, guy! Ow! Hey! Dude!”

Severian was grateful that the Slytherin's wand had been knocked out of his hand in the collision because it took him a full minute -- a very long and uncomfortable minute -- to unwrap his tentacle hands. As soon as he did though, the Slytherin scuttled out of his reach, pushed himself to his feet, and made a grab towards where his wand had fallen, but the Ravenclaw boy had picked it up first.

“You can have it back,” the boy said with a vague smile. He had set his books on the ground behind him and was passing the wand back and forth lazily between his hands. “But I'm keeping the book until I'm finished with it... I'm sure the library will inform you again when it's available.”

The Slytherin grumbled something unintelligible, strode up to the younger boy and snatched the wand out of his hand. The Ravenclaw didn't resist, and for a moment, Severian thought the Slytherin was going to hex him anyway, but the sixth-year turned abruptly and stalked off down the corridor without another word.

Severian sat on the ground and laughed.

“Are you okay?” The Ravenclaw walked over to him, though he didn't offer his hand.

“Yup! I'm good!” Severian bounced back to his feet easily, even without assistance.

“My name is Quentin Agorath... Were you headed for the hospital wing?”

“I'm Severian!” Severian announced cheerfully. “Or 'Sev' is fine. And I was indeed!”

“You're no where near there,” Quentin said.

“Aw, I wasn't in a hurry,” Severian said with a grin and a shrug. “In fact, do you need help with those books? I can help you get back to Ravenclaw Tower, if you want!”

Quentin seemed to look him over curiously, then said. “Very well.”

He turned and picked up about a third of his books, and Severian gladly took the rest without complaint, though he did almost drop a few before the load settled into his tentacled grip.

“You're avoiding the hospital wing, hm?” Quentin asked as they started up the staircase at the other end of the corridor.

Severian shrugged again. “I go there a lot, so I don't think Madam Pomfrey likes me...”

“Ahh...” Quentin said. He was quiet for a few moments, then asked, “I don't suppose you'd oblige to let me take a look at those hands before they're fixed? They're interesting.”

“Sure!” Severian said. “You don't get to try and fix them though, okay? I've had bad experiences with that.”

“That's fine... I don't want to try to fix them anyway, just see how they react to a few things...? Hmm...” Quentin mumbled something else, but Severian didn't think he was supposed to understand what it was anyway.

They proceeded to Ravenclaw Tower, and it ended up that Severian didn't have time to go to the hospital wing at all before curfew.

He showed up the next day in Potions with tentacle hands still there and was ordered to go to the hospital wing again, this time with an escort.

 

 


End file.
